Souls Of War: Avatars
by Nawaki no Shinobi
Summary: I never believed gods, I never believed in fate, they are merely things restrict us. Restrict us from being who we are. They prevent us from choosing our own destinies" Can a mercenary have a conscience? Can he really believe in anyone else but himself?
1. Default Chapter

**_Part One_**

_One can never fully appreciate the wonders friends and love ones would bring to you until you have, and nearly, lost them. "No man is an island", a famous man once said, in more ways than one this is true. They are the bright lights in the darkness, the pathfinders of a lost soul. They stand as the great pillars in halls of our hearts standing straight and tall in the midst of time, and the decay it brings. They maybe mortal or eternal, but true friends shall always be in your heart, an immortal bond of friendship and love, be it feet or millions of miles separating you. Nothing, not even many planes or the immortal powers of the gods can ever sever these ties. _

_But what one must understand is that is that the companionship your love ones bring will not just be the lights that will guide you in the darkness, they shall also be your armor of mythril, your sword of adamantine, your shield of defiance, your spirit of hope, but what is most important of all is that you must also know that true companionship, friendship, is rare, as rare as a pure defiant light in the underworld realms of the Drow, the dark elves. So consider yourself a fortunate man if you have acquired such a treasure._

_As I consider myself as an incredibly fortunate man._

_For I have had the pleasure of being with such individuals, men and women who I have traveled endless leagues with, experiencing dozens of adventures and endless wars. We have fought along side each other, bled our hearts and souls together, challenged the ruling god as one. We were weak as individuals and strong as a whole._

_It is they who made me into what I am, as I helped mold them into what they are._

_I would just be another unfortunate soul-of-war without them._

_I could tell you who they are, I could present a description for you. However, while such experiences are best recorded with words and images, there is no better way to know one than to know what they have done in life. For it is actions, and nothing else, which truly describe who, and what, we are._

_** Harold James Potter of Griffon **_

**_ Soldier, Chaos Master, Friend._**


	2. Teaser for SOW: Avatars

**_Word of Caution_: This is not a real chapter. I repeat. This is not a real chapter.**

_I am posting this because I want to reassure anyone who has read this story that I have not given up on it. Its just really hard to find time to write these days as I'm in my final year of IB.(Or A levels for the extremely insane.) I love writing and dont like to give up on stories, so please, dont think im leaving this story._

_Thank you_

....Its footsteps were light, softly touching the moist ground, barely touching the dried leaves and sticks strewn across the forest floor. With its silent gait, the creature sped along the evergreen woods; its movements were hauntingly similar to that of a wolf, but even then the figure was decidedly human. It was a human figure that was running with the grace and speed of a lupine, moving with ease on two legs as it vaulted over fallen tree barks and roots on the ground, it presence was barely noticed by the meandering animals. It suddenly leaped high up into the air soaring over several rocks and tree roots leaving them in his wake, landing softly in a crouched position. Slowly it stood up, still alert, scanning the horizon.

One look at the human-like figure and you could already see its lupine features, its slightly pointed ears, long, shaggy, hair and a muscular build that was a definite, though an almost impossible, likeness to a wolf. One that can be seen through the creature's lean build as there was an unseen power radiating from it, a power that was animalistic, that yet had a human touch to it, a human touch that acts as a counter-balance to the wolf like aura and movements that the figured possessed. From its low position one could see light trappings of armor, an unmarked breast plate attached to the torso, gloves with steel plating curled up into a ball, and metal clad boots adorning his feet and lower legs. What was left was only thin, and tight, woodland brown colored clothing covering up his thighs and arms.

Its eyes immediately went to its left, swiveling quickly to the right, doing so a few times in quick succession. It then lifted its nose in air, sniffing, picking up the scent of its prey. It slowly moved, shifting to the left, head held up high in the air, picking up a scent. It moved its head down.

'West', it thought.

And immediately he was off again, only a slight rustling of leaves gave notice of his departure, the departure of a wolf-man, a werewolf.

The wolf was near its target, as it realized this fact it started to slow down, coming to light walk to the edge of a small cliff, beneath it was still a forest, a brook to east of his position, a cave to the south-west. Looking down he spotted an ordinary rock near a tree, it was grey with irregular facets. The Werewolf smiled, stepping of the cliff in the next second and landing with crunch of leaves underneath his boots. He stalked forward, the smile gone, and stopped near the rock.

"Have you found one?"

(POV-C)

'A patrol passed here' He thought, placing his hand on the trampled leaves in front of him.

Picking up a solitary, mashed, leaf he picked it up and placed it underneath his nose, smelling. Twirling the leaf he looked to his left. He could hear the sounds of several animals near by, a hawk in the sky overhead, a nest of chicks a few meters to his right, small rodents scurrying about. He closed his eyes as he listened to the sounds of nature. His senses focused on the tiniest movements, listening, looking, tuning his senses to the forest around him. Feeling the infinite energy of nature around him, hearing the voices of the harmonia, it was then that he felt it. He felt a mystifying, mysterious, current of energy, magic, from the east, it was faint for the moment, however, it felt...familiar to him, calling him. But energy then vanished, as quickly as he felt it, it was gone, a fact to be stored in the depths of his mind. It were these thoughts that made him return his thoughts to scanning the area once again; with a slight burst of magic from his '_relic'_ he found what he was looking for.

'South-west' He concurred in his thoughts. 'Now---' a slight sound caught his attention, turning it away from the patterns in front of him. Easing his head to the right he heard the sound of boots landing heavily – to his ears – behind him, the figure who created them stalking slowly, stopping next to him, kneeling.

"Have you found one?" The figure said. "Caught a trail?"

He trained his eyes westward, looking down at the ground in front of him before looking up again and addressing the wolf.

"There was a patrol here." He began his voice smooth and deep. "By my reckoning," He paused, head turned to the south-west. "About an hour ago, they were running quickly, nineteen to twenty-two kilometers to the south-west."

"A patrol." The wolf repeated. "By the looking at the tracks I'd figure them to be half-breeds. Goblinoids." He moved his head to look at his solitary companion. "I suppose you're going to pursue them, Harry." The rock beside him shifted, the irregularly faceted rock collapsed revealing a cloaked human. The hood moved slightly to the right, an emerald eye peering out at the wolf.

"Yes" was his short reply. "The others are busy?" He queried, turning back to trail in front of him.

"We encountered two more patrols a few miles back. Padfoot and Drake are taking care of them now, as we speak, with the rest of the men." The wolf then paused, looking to the north-east. "Something strange happened a while ago." He continued. "I detected a strange magical burst earlier." He turned and looked pointedly at his friend. "You felt it?" He asked, the question being more of a statement.

"I did." Harry replied, his eyes still focused ahead. "Though I don't know what it was. Do you?"

"I don't either. But it was definitely something old; it actually might be an _'Elder'_".

"_Elder_?" Harry turned his head to his companion. "An Elder, are you serious? I know it was different, but, an _Elde_r?"

"It's merely a guess. But from my experience guesses can be equally right or wrong"

"You're going to see into it then?" Harry's voice was calm but it had an undertone of worry etched into, a rare emotion from the cold adult.

"Yes, but don't worry. I'll be fine. I'll be there for the main event."

"I know you will." Harry answered. "Just don't get killed, Remus"

"I won't" Remus replied. He turned around, preparing to go. Looking over his shoulder he said. "I'll also expect you to be there Harry. Be careful.'

As he turned his head he found that Harry was already gone. Not a trace of his previous presence was evident, this prompting Remus to shake his head in awe.

'Once again I am awed by your student, great master' he thought to himself looking up into the mid-afternoon sky.

(POV-C)

Muttering a small spell the runes on his cloak glowed and then shrank the whole material into a small piece of cloth that was tucked into his belt, the removal of the cloak revealing the leather armor that Rangers wore beneath his ever-green cloak. While the leather vest he wore covered his chest one could see black gloves on his hands and knee-length brown leather boots on his feet, his knees sporting a thick pad on each leg. As he stopped for a brief second he pulled on a hood attached to the green shirt that he wore beneath his vest and quickly scanned the area in front of him before he once again dashed into the forest before him.

The contrast between the movements of Remus and Harry couldn't clearer as Harry dashed into the forest before him. While the movements of Remus resembled that of the grace of a wolf, Harry's way traversing through the forest was that of measured stride, semi-conscious movements brought to the surface by what seemed to be years experience in the woodlands of the plane in which he lived in. His confidence was represented by the easy gait, though quite swift, which he took as deftly weaved in and out of the trees and natural implements his way. Reaching a few times to touch the moist ground during his journey he immediately halted as he reached a shallow brook.

He looked to his left as he stalked forward, to the right when he went a few paces onward. A small smile lit up his face when he saw them, a small smile that vanished quickly and was replaced with a serious expression, a cold expression that he maintained as he grabbed a bow from his back, an arrow a few seconds on. He pulled it back, as his targets were two hundred yards before him.

The arrow was released.

A Goblin fell with a sickening thud

(POV-C)

The Manurak was tired.

Tired, Cold, Hungry, and Afraid

Afraid of the forest, it and its brothers, the orcs, the nature perceived them as perversions, creations of the dark, creations of dark wizards of the past, the orcs and their brethren as the failed hybrid of elf and human. It is in the middle of nature that it felt more in harms way than he did in the middle of battle, and so it wished to be there, in the middle of the battle that might be going on at the very moment away in the west.

A snap of a whip and the orders of the commanding orc brought his attention to the patrol group he was in, one the many scouting the Griffinvale forest. The stretch of woods that marked the southern border of the kingdom of Griffone and the north-western boundary of the barbarian wastelands of the east, the east having a natural border in the form of a range of mountains called The Crimson Towers in the human language.

It was then that, as he walked, he heard the sound of ripping wind behind him, before he could fully turn around his body froze as an arrow embedded itself in the back of his head, the point protruding out of his right eye socket.

(POV-C)

Quickly reloading his bow he ran to the right of his position aiming quickly and releasing another arrow, felling a goblin the side of the group. Even before his previous target fell he was off again to the right, mimicking his movements flawlessly as arrow after arrow besieged the bewildered and alarmed group of Goblinoids.

(POV-C)

After the second Goblin fell the group immediately stopped its march and began to frantically scout the area around their current position. A third member of the group fell, this time a Goblinoid, even more panic began to seep in and the group started to break. The only Orc in the group, their leader, immediately began barking orders at the head of the patrol as more and more of its soldiers began to fall.

It continued to bark orders in the harsh Orken language, unaware of the sudden cease fire from their assailant, shouting at his men to find their hidden assassin as it heard a deep, human, voice behind him whispered in a familiar Orken dialect.

"You were talking about me?"

The Orc captain immediately spun around, drawing his sword, only to meet jade colored eyes and the sharp point of an arrow.

(POV-C)

Harry loosed the arrow at the head of the tall orc, going through the eye, immediately drawing another arrow from behind his back and firing twice more in rapid succession. He then dropped the bow as two curved short swords dropped from his back and to his sides, drawing them simultaneously, as he ran forward decapitating a small Goblin with an X like slash before jumping back quickly when a recovered Goblinoid tried to make a diagonal slash at him. Harry then quickly pressed ahead from his back step and lunged at the offending creature, piercing its throat. He then pulled back the blade lodged in the Hybrid's throat as his right hand sword deflected another slash from his right flank, with his left hand following a second later to slash the creatures throat before his right hand returned to pierce the Goblinoids chest.

Pulling back the blade from the creature's chest his eyes darted suddenly to his left and saw the shadow of the last remaining member of the patrol, a particularly small Goblin, he raised his left hand, his curved blade pointed forward, a lightning bolt erupted from its end, searing the screaming Goblin as it fell writhing in pain. It dropped quickly onto the moist ground, the burning fires on its body dying out as quickly.

The soldier then stepped back a moment later, breathing deeply, looked at the twelve corpses around him. He sheathed his swords, replacing them on his back, he was then raising his hands as a pure white sphere of energy grew in his palm, the bodies of the slain orcs began to glow, tendrils of dark colored energy flew from corpses to the outstretched palm of the soldier. Once the tendrils of energy receded he closed his palm and scouted the area once again before turning around and heading back east. As he walked on further he stopped, grabbing his bow and slinging it over his shoulder, before he turned to the left, a trunk of tree in his way....

**A/N: Well? What do you think? Should I just stop writing? Tell me please. I plan on finishing this by the next weekend.(I still have to finish my 4000 word Extended Essay)**


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